


Breaking Point

by Ashii Black (ashiiblack), Icicle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Gags, Hair Pulling, Hate Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Powerplay, Rivalry, Rough Sex, inappropiate use of a scarf, mentions of Pliroy, past otayuri, victurio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 08:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14160936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack/pseuds/Ashii%20Black, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icicle/pseuds/Icicle
Summary: Yuri pushes Viktor to his breaking point.Yuri had a gleam in his eyes, one that Viktor only saw when he was trying to get something he wanted. "Maybe there's another reason you don't want me to fuck JJ? Maybe you want me all to yourself?"





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/gifts).



> Co-written by Ashii and Icicle for Yuri Plisetsky Week Day 6- On the Edge and as a gift for Phayte♥
> 
> Enjoy the self-indulgent porn! We had a blast writing this together.

* * *

Viktor slumped onto the closest bench, trying to catch his breath. As he leaned down to untie his skates, sweaty hair fell into his eyes. He sighed and pushed it out of the way, ignoring the concerned glances Yakov sent his way.

Due to Yakov's insistence, he'd cut his practice short. His timing on his jumps had been off, his mind clearly elsewhere. Yakov thought he was anxious about the upcoming GPF and needed rest. Reluctantly, Viktor agreed not to overwork himself before the event. He could never admit the _real_ reason why his concentration had faltered.

Yakov would kill him.

Viktor shook his head and tried not to think about that. After his shitty practice, he needed a hot shower and a long session with his right hand.

He rose from the bench and approached the locker rooms. As he opened the door, laughter echoed throughout the room. Viktor's eyes snapped up, falling on two figures leaning against the sinks. He stared at the scene in front of him in silence.

Leroy, who ended his practice before Viktor, was standing in front of Yuri, who sat on the sink, his legs dangling in the air.

Why was Yuri still at the rink? He already practiced earlier that morning.

Viktor narrowed his eyes as he watched the exchange. Yuri was _smiling_. He never smiled, especially not at Viktor since he'd returned to competition.

Even worse, Yuri was touching JJ's shoulder and began sliding his foot along JJ's leg. Yuri's oversized sweatshirt hung off his shoulder, showing off his pale skin. The same green scarf that Yuri had barely taken off all winter, hung loosely around his neck.

He scoffed. JJ hadn't spent much time brokenhearted over his ex, had he? The asshole was hitting on Yuri, who was already taken by Otabek. Yuri seemed to have completely forgotten his boyfriend, giggling with his head thrown back like a slut. There was no mistaking what Yuri was doing.

This was _wrong_. Otabek was out with an injury, and Yuri had already set his sights on someone else. He needed to have a word with Yuri about his behavior.

Viktor clenched his fists and walked toward JJ and Yuri. Over the years, Viktor had learned to control his temper. He learned to channel his anger into his skating. But there was something about Yuri that brought out that same irrational fury that he’d experienced as a teenager. The longer Viktor spent around him, the worse it became.

Something had to be done.

By the time he reached Yuri and JJ, Viktor’s hands shook at his sides. JJ saw him coming and sent him that infuriating head jerk of his in greeting. Viktor narrowed his eyes and ignored him. He pushed past JJ and grabbed Yuri by the shoulder, pulling him aside.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" Yuri glared and tried to squirm his way out of Viktor’s grasp.

Viktor didn’t release him. "I need to talk to you." The more Yuri squirmed the tighter Viktor held him.

"Can’t you see I’m busy, old man?"

Viktor rolled his eyes. He hated when Yuri called him that. At least he had his own nickname to taunt him with. "It _can’t_ wait. It has to be now, _Yurio_."

Yuri huffed and stopped fighting Viktor's grip. He smiled in satisfaction, guiding Yuri out of the locker room. He saw Yakov yelling at one of the junior skaters and frowned. Viktor couldn't talk to Yuri about his behavior in front of Yakov. They kept walking past the rink and through the exit.

Once outside, Yuri turned around, bumping his chest into Viktor's. "Seriously, what the fuck? I thought you wanted me to be nicer to the competition. And don’t call me that stupid name."

Viktor squeezed Yuri's shoulder so hard he winced. "Not _that_ nice."

Yuri grabbed Viktor's wrist and yanked it off him. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he growled.

Viktor tried to repress his anger, tried to take a deep breath and count to five. He failed. "It means that you can't go around fucking other men while your boyfriend is away!"

He didn't add that perhaps he should be fucking other men who knew how to be discreet, unlike Jean-Jacques Leroy, who couldn't stay off Instagram to save his life.

Confusion flooded Yuri's face. "What?"

" _Otabek_ , Yuri. The boy you've been texting and Skyping all year?" Yuri’s expression remained blank. "He visited you last month? Don't you remember your own boyfriend?"

Yuri paused, his mouth hanging open. Then, his face twisted into a mixture between frustration and amusement. "Fuck. You."

He turned and began stomping toward the hotel, awkwardly putting his jacket on as he walked. This wasn't how Viktor imagined the conversation. He wanted Yuri on his knees. Viktor glared and ran after him.

"I'm not done talking to you!"

Yuri scoffed. "Of course, you're not. You never are, are you, Vitya? Always lurking behind me. Who I fuck is none of your business."

Viktor pursed his lips. He _wanted_ it to be his business, felt a desperate need to know the details of who Yuri brought into his bed. "Are you telling me that you and Otabek aren't together?"

"Fuck no." Yuri crossed his arms and continued walking, not looking at Viktor.

Viktor was stunned. How could he have gotten something so wrong?

After a pause, Yuri spoke again. "I mean - we tried to have sex after my exhibition skate - but we weren't very compatible. He was _too_ nice."

They approached the revolving door to the hotel lobby and then stepped through together. Viktor bumped against Yuri's back, tensing at their sudden proximity.

"This isn’t over, Yura." Viktor blocked Yuri’s path, so he couldn’t flee to the elevator. "Are you going to see him again?"

Yuri snorted. "Who?"

Viktor scowled. "JJ! Don’t play dumb, Yura. It doesn’t suit you." He hooked his hands on the inside of his coat sleeves. "Well, are you?"

Yuri smirked. "And if I am?"

Viktor stomped his foot. "You can’t go around fucking men like Jean-Jacques Leroy."

"Why the hell not?" Yuri walked through the hotel lobby to the elevator.

Fury pooled through Viktor's gut. Yuri was sixteen years old, but he spoke to Viktor like they were peers. Yuri wasn't his peer; he was twelve years younger than Viktor! Yuri should respect him.

Yuri didn't wait for Viktor to respond. Instead, he pressed the button to their hotel floor and turned to face Viktor. "What if I wanted to take him for a ride, Vitya?"

Viktor clenched his fists, determined not to give into Yuri's taunts.

"What if I wanted to bring him back to my hotel room and show him what he was missing out while he was with that bitch? I'd fuck him so hard, he might not even be able to skate in the Finals."

"Shut up."

"Or maybe...I'd let him fuck me." Yuri palmed his growing erection through his pants. "I could ride his huge dick all night."

Viktor swallowed and closed his eyes. He tried to come up with a clever retort but failed. "He'd never last the whole night."

Yuri had a gleam in his eyes, one that Viktor only saw when he was trying to get something he wanted. "Maybe there's _another_ reason you don't want me to fuck JJ? Maybe you want me all to yourself?" At Viktor's silence, he continued. "I see how you look at me, Vitya. Your eyes linger in the shower longer than an old, perverted man of your age should look. Tell me, Vitya. Do you want to shut me up with your cock?"

"Listen up you little shit--" Viktor grabbed Yuri by his scarf. "You _can’t_ talk to me like that." His hands twisted in Yuri’s scarf, pulling him even closer.

Yuri’s eyes went wide, his smug expression fading. Viktor’s grasp was tight, probably too tight. Yuri started coughing. "Fuck, Vitya it was only a joke. Let me go."

Viktor scoffed. He knew he might be hurting Yuri, but at this point, he didn’t care. He’d reached his breaking point.

"No." He narrowed his eyes and tugged on the scarf again. "I’ve been putting up with that mouth of yours all year. This stops. _Now_."

Yuri attempted to clear his throat. He looked anxious as he stared but didn’t respond.

Viktor jerked at the scarf, pulling Yuri closer. "That was no joke. You can’t go around accusing people of things like that, Yura." He wet his bottom lip with his tongue. "You’re not a child anymore."

Yuri raised his chin defiantly. "That’s right. I’m not a child." His eyes flashed dangerously. "And you’re right. It wasn’t a joke." He swallowed. "You didn’t answer the question, Vitya."

Viktor was stunned, completely dumbfounded. Yuri always found a way to rile him up. Part of him wanted to clock him in the face, knock some sense into him. But another part, a much larger part that he’d been denying for months, knew he was right.

Yuri Plisetsky had been driving him crazy, messing with his head. Even his skating. For reasons he couldn’t even explain to himself, he _wanted_ Yuri. And it looked like Yuri wanted him, too. He had been holding these feelings inside for so long. Viktor feared what would happen if he let them surge forward. Perhaps it would help his skating if he released his emotions.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for, Yura." Viktor gave him a wry smile. "We have to skate in a few days. Are you willing to risk a place on the podium?"

"I can make my own decisions." Yuri’s breath was ragged now. "I can take anything you throw at me, old man. And still wipe the ice with you and take gold."

Viktor had to admit Yuri was bold, much bolder than Viktor had been at sixteen. "Well, if you’re sure." He didn’t wait for Yuri’s response. He pulled him by the scarf again, shoving him against the elevator wall. For once, he was glad that they were on such a high floor.

He slammed his lips against Yuri's, thrusting his tongue into his mouth, not giving him time to react. Viktor curled the scarf around his hand, pulling it tighter around Yuri's neck. Yuri moaned and allowed Viktor to push him even harder against the elevator wall, the railing digging into his back.

Viktor used his free hand to grab a hold of Yuri's ass, pulling his hips forward until their bodies were flush with each other.

Somewhere behind him, Viktor heard the elevator ding and the doors opened. Viktor pulled apart from Yuri, but he kept a hold on the scarf, tugging him toward Yuri's room. Conveniently, they’d been placed next to each other.

"Get your key card out." Viktor was surprised by how threatening his voice sounded, but found he didn't care.

Yuri fumbled through his pockets, then held out his keys. His fingers were trembling.

Viktor smirked. Perhaps Yuri wasn't the epitome of youthful confidence after all.

He slid the keycard through the slot, watching as the light turned green. Viktor turned back to Yuri, who seemed to have regained some of his swagger, his chin lifting again. Viktor would have to change that.

"Get undressed and lay on the bed." It wasn’t a request.

Yuri slid his coat off, leaving the scarf on. He looked at Viktor, who grinned. Viktor would make good use of that scarf.

Yuri seemed to do a strip tease for Viktor, shaking his ass as he slid down his leggings. Yuri gripped the hem of his sweatshirt and pulled it over his head, not allowing the scarf to come up with it. Once he was completely naked, he fell back on the bed, watching Viktor expectantly.

Viktor paused to admire Yuri's lithe body. He'd spent the past year desperately trying not to notice Yuri. Now, that he had permission, he wanted to take full advantage. Yuri had begun to fill out, puberty finally catching up with him. His chest had defined muscles, faint abs that Viktor wanted to trace with his tongue. His eyes landed on Yuri's cock, fully erect and an impressive length for his age. Yuri's legs were long, so long that Viktor couldn’t help imagining them wrapped around him.

Viktor licked his lips and removed his shirt and pants. He didn't want to appear too desperate, but he finally had Yuri where he wanted him. Viktor would savor every moment.

He climbed onto the bed and pushed his hair out of his face. Yuri looked up, his mouth half open, eyes lidded. It was obvious that he liked what he saw. "What do you want to do to me?"

Viktor straddled Yuri and leaned forward, sucking a mark onto his neck. "I'm going to fuck you into this mattress."

Yuri groaned and Viktor pushed his weight further on top of him, continuing to bruise Yuri’s neck. He twisted his fingers around the green scarf, wondering why Yuri had chosen to leave it on. Perhaps Yuri enjoyed the experience in the elevator more than Viktor imagined. He felt his cock twitch in interest.

As Viktor lost himself sucking on Yuri’s neck, Yuri wrapped a hand in Viktor’s hair. He tugged on the strands, hard. "Stop that," Viktor hissed.

"You’ll leave a mark. And Yakov will see!"

Viktor clicked his tongue. " _Not_ my problem."

"Asshole," Yuri muttered as Viktor continued to lick his way up his neck. Yuri had been torturing him for months. He would not make things easy for him now.

Yuri grinded his hips against Viktor's, rubbing their cocks together. He could feel the desperation in Yuri's movements, his ragged breath hot on his neck. Viktor felt his heart pound in his ears, his temperature rise. This wouldn't do at all. Yuri needed to understand that he wasn't in control. Balancing himself, Viktor pushed half his weight onto one arm. He lifted himself up and then grabbed a fistful of Yuri's hair. He yanked it and Yuri let out a loud cry.

"Asshole," he growled.

"Stop it, Yura. You'll have to learn to be patient."

Yuri huffed. "Whatever, old man, I don't--"

Viktor didn't allow him to finish. If Yuri wouldn't shut up, then Viktor would find another way to keep him quiet. He grabbed Yuri's chin, lifting it up, and then smashed their lips together. He kissed him, hard, not all like the exploratory kiss in the elevator where he was still testing the waters, making sure that Yuri did in fact want this.

He bit down on Yuri's bottom lip and took a hold of his hair. He pulled again experimentally. This time, Yuri moaned and Viktor smirked. He'd been right. The little prick was just pretending to be scared; he actually liked it when Viktor pulled his hair.

Oh, this was going to be fun. Even more fun than he'd imagined.

Viktor continued to kiss Yuri, until he felt him squirm beneath him again.

"Are you ready to do things my way?" Viktor asked after he broke the kiss.

Yuri bit down on his tongue as if it were painful for him to answer. He grunted something unintelligible and nodded his head ever so slightly.

Viktor tried to hold back his own smug expression. "I'm assuming you have lube?" He gave Yuri a questioning look.

"And if I don't?"

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Then you don't get fucked. And I go find someone else to fuck."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "It's in the nightstand. You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

Viktor flashed a wicked smile. "Would I do something like that?"

Quickly, he rolled himself off the bed and made his way to the nightstand. His own cock was aching, so he welcomed the distraction. He opened the drawer and grabbed the bottle of lube.

Uncapping the bottle with his thumb, he coated his fingers with lube, pausing so Yuri could watch him. Viktor admired Yuri as he lay on his back-- the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, dick hard against his stomach, a new toy for Viktor to debauch. Once he felt like he tortured Yuri enough, he climbed back onto the bed.

"Should I roll over?"

Viktor grinned. Perhaps the waiting had worked and Yuri would listen to him after all.

"I want you to watch me."

Yuri hummed in approval and spread his legs.

Viktor crawled between his legs and ran his fingers up the back of Yuri's thighs, finally reaching the cleft of his ass. He hooked the tip of his finger into him.

Countless times, Viktor had thought about this moment, imagined what Yuri would look like-- naked and writhing for his cock. Viktor had jerked off to the image, picturing Yuri's face as he fucked him with his fingers.

The reality was so much better. Yuri's moans were positively filthy, sending waves of arousal through Viktor's body. His ass was tight and hot, clenching around Viktor's fingers.

Viktor prepared Yuri at an agonizingly slow pace, moving his fingers in and out of him as though they had nothing better to do. It was driving Viktor insane, but that meant it made Yuri even crazier. He grinded his ass down on Viktor's fingers.

"You're a bigger cockslut than Chris, aren't you?" Viktor added a third finger and looked up at him.

Yuri gritted his teeth. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his hair curling at the ends. "I wouldn't know."

Viktor curled his fingers and found Yuri's prostate, pressing far harder than necessary. Yuri let out a choked sob and clenched his fists. He kept his fingers inside Yuri, but lifted the scarf, playing with the material. "You wear this scarf a lot."

Yuri rutted his ass against Viktor's fingers. "Beka gave it to me."

"Did he, now?" Viktor spread the scarf across Yuri's chest.

"He said he'd give me _anything_. Anything I wanted. What are you going to give me, Vitya?"

Viktor narrowed his eyes. It looked as though he was back to taunting. Good thing Viktor had an idea to make him finally shut his fucking mouth.

He removed his fingers and Yuri cried out. Viktor climbed between his spread legs. He gripped Yuri's wrists, pinning him to the bed. "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

Yuri looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "You know that's what I want. I know that's what you want, too."

"I'm not going to fuck you when you're running your mouth. And...I can't trust you _not_ to talk." He released one of Yuri's wrists, taking hold of the scarf again. "I'll just have to find a way to prevent it."

Viktor let go of Yuri's other hand and squeezed his cheeks, lifting his chin. He stuffed Yuri's mouth with the scarf, ignoring Yuri's grunt of protest.

"If you remove the scarf, I'll stop fucking you and leave. Do you understand?" Yuri glared at Viktor, so he tugged on the other end, constricting Yuri's neck. "I said, _do you understand_?"

Yuri nodded, breathing in deeply through his nose.

Viktor smiled obscenely. He released the scarf and watched as Yuri exhaled through his nose. He pressed his lips into a thin line and ran his fingers down Yuri’s entire body, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his inner thighs. Yuri shuddered and Viktor had to bite down a moan.

God, Yuri was gorgeous like this, almost overwhelmingly so, sprawled out like a prize-- gagged and desperate for his cock. It was better than anything Viktor could have imagined -- almost enough to distract from the wave of jealousy that finding out the scarf Yuri had barely taken off for months was a gift from Otabek.

Viktor wasn’t stupid. He knew that Otabek had feelings for Yuri and had been certain that Yuri returned them. But Yuri thought this whole thing was a game. That much was clear. The asshole thought he could continue taunting Viktor without any consequences. Boy, was he wrong. If Yuri wanted to play, then Viktor would win. He _always_ did.

He retrieved the bottle of lube and slicked his cock. Yuri's eyes followed his every move.

Viktor dug his fingers into Yuri’s thighs. He grabbed Yuri’s left leg, which Yuri lifted for him without any resistance, pushing it up in the air. Viktor stretched it, testing Yuri’s flexibility and then rested it on his shoulder. Once secure, he reached for Yuri’s other leg, wrapping it around his hip. Yuri clenched his toes and started rubbing them against Viktor’s side.

"Yura--" Viktor barely recognized the deep, raspy tone of his voice. He swallowed. Since Viktor gagged him, Yuri had not taken his eyes off him. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, breath shallow through his nose. His chest heaved. It was almost too much. Viktor knew he had to get started or he wouldn’t last.

After a few quick tugs, he lined up his cock against Yuri’s entrance and pushed halfway in. Yuri cried out. He tried to say something, but his words were muffled through the gag. Viktor just smiled. "Isn't this what you wanted, Yura? You said Otabek was too nice last time."

He ignored whatever colorful insult Yuri tried to mutter, pushing his cock the rest of the way in without warning. He felt Yuri tense as his ring of muscle strained against his dick.

Fuck. He paused for a moment, allowing Yuri to get used to the girth of his cock, trying to compose himself. He watched patiently as the tense muscles on Yuri's forehead released. His eyes opened, no longer shut tight in pain.

Viktor pulled out of Yuri and then thrust in again, harder this time. Yuri threw his head back, arching his back off the bed. He dug his fingers into the sheets. Viktor continued fucking him, angling Yuri's slim hips up, finding a steady rhythm. Yuri wrapped his legs tighter around Viktor’s hips. Viktor gasped. He bit down on his tongue and then picked up the pace.

As they fucked, Yuri dug his ankle with bruising force into the back of Viktor's neck. Viktor glared and stopped thrusting, shoving Yuri’s leg off his neck.

"Haven't you learned you _aren't_ in charge?"

He grabbed Yuri's wrists and pinned them to the headboard. Yuri moaned, the muffled sound sending another jolt of arousal straight to his cock. He began thrusting again, his hips snapping forward.

"You're going to regret trying that."

Of course, Viktor knew that Yuri was gagged and couldn't respond, but he couldn't help himself.

He fucked into Yuri relentlessly, no longer caring if he was hurting Yuri. Viktor channeled all the pent up frustration he’d been suppressing all these months into this moment. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, this is something he’d wanted for a long time.

Ever since he met the brat,Yuri had found a way to worm himself into Viktor’s mind. Viktor had always been competitive, beyond competitive. This was payback. He fucked Yuri as hard as he could, making him regret the moment he ever decided to taunt him. It was the only fair thing to do. He watched as Yuri continued to throw his head back, to struggle against him, to mutter into the gag.

The more Yuri struggled, the more Viktor held him down, pressing more of his weight on top of Yuri. He knew he was crushing him since Viktor had at least a few kilograms, on Yuri, but Yuri didn’t seem to mind. If anything -- the harder Viktor fucked him, the harder he held him down and crushed his wrists -- the more Yuri gagged for it.

Viktor smiled. He'd imagined Yuri might be up for this, but once again, Yuri managed to exceed all expectations. Since Viktor knew he was close, he decided to test one final theory. He reached down with his free hand and grabbed his cock. He started pumping it furiously in time with his thrusts. He watched as Yuri’s eyes grew even wider, his cheeks flushing. God, he was so fucking beautiful like this. Viktor almost regretted gagging him, but Yuri seemed to enjoy it, to get off on it too. Who knew Yuri Plisetsky was the submissive type?

Viktor wasn’t sure if he would get another chance to fuck Yuri. He needed to make this one count. As he continued pushing himself closer to the edge, he let go of Yuri's bound wrists. Yuri had closed his eyes, lost in the moment, but when Viktor released his wrists he opened them, locking eyes with Viktor for just a second.

Viktor smirked and then leaned forward. He started sucking on Yuri’s neck, who began pushing against him. Viktor grabbed the end of the cashmere scarf. He pulled on it, hard. Yuri started coughing, but Viktor didn’t stop. He pulled again, harder this time. Yuri needed to learn his lesson. He’d never wear Otabek’s gift in his presence again.

As Viktor continued tugging, Yuri banged his head against the headboard, his now free hands gripping the sheets so tightly, his knuckles turned white. He came, screaming through the gag in his mouth. Come spurted out of Yuri's cock, coating their chests and stomachs. Satisfied, Viktor thrust into Yuri once, twice, and felt his orgasm rip through him. He yanked harder on the scarf, then finally released it as he dropped his head onto the pillow.

Yuri pulled the gag out of his mouth, gasping for air. His legs dropped to the bed. He shifted uncomfortably as Viktor intentionally stayed on top of Yuri for just a moment longer. He wanted to savor the feeling of Yuri's body underneath his as long as he could.

Eventually, he pulled out of Yuri and rolled over beside him. Yuri tossed the scarf off the bed, which made Viktor smile. There was no way Yuri would ever think about Otabek again.

Viktor had fucked a _lot_ of men in his lifetime, but he knew this was one he would always remember. Yuri Plisetsky was definitely a worthy rival.

Yuri turned and ran his hand up Viktor's chest, resting his head on Viktor's shoulder.

Viktor froze. There was no way he would allow Yuri to fall asleep on him. They couldn't cuddle, not if Yuri wanted it. Viktor couldn't forfeit the victory now.

He slid out from Yuri's grasp and grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, wiping the lube and come from his body.

"I don't have to tell you to keep your mouth shut about this, do I?"

Yuri narrowed his eyes but nodded. "Will you fuck me again?"

Viktor pulled on his pants, then found his shirt and turned it right side out. He dropped his voice, hoping he sounded nonchalant. "We'll see if you deserve it."

He threw on his shirt, found the rest of his clothes, then turned to Yuri. He looked completely fucked out, marks and bruises all over his body. There was no way his costume would cover all of that.

Yuri pouted, but Viktor could tell he didn't have the energy to argue. The silence was peaceful. He smiled.

"I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

"You could stay."

Viktor shook his head. "You'll have to earn that, Yura."

With that, Viktor turned and left the room, heading back to his own. Even after he shut the door, he could hear Yuri's frustrated yells muffled into his pillow.

The only thing that could make this weekend better was a gold medal.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Come find us on tumblr [Ashii](https://ashiiblack.tumblr.com) and [ Icicle](https://icicle33.tumblr.com)


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